by Teri Blake
This was all so new. Most people probably learned these things when they navigated through their teen years. Her sister obviously had. But Quin had been sheltered by her parents and then sheltered by herself when she’d hidden away in New York.
“She was better than me in a lot of ways. I’m discovering that my parents picked the wrong daughter to promote and coddle.”
“I haven’t seen them in a few days. Where’d they go?” He deftly changed the subject.
She hadn’t heard much from them and didn’t care as long as a For Sale sign didn’t show up in the front yard before she was ready. “I don’t know. I assume they’re still in town, since they haven’t picked up all their luggage, but they haven’t come around that I’ve seen. I told them I didn’t want their money and I think that offended them.”
“Possibly. Or they really are trying to do what they know, and they don’t understand why you’re fighting it. The only you they know is the one who didn’t want to come back here. They’re probably confused.”
Paxton wasn’t supposed to make Mom and Dad human again. She had vilified them enough that it took some of her own hurt away over her actions. “They never said they were.”
“I think all of you are suffering from a serious lack of communication, which is something you should take care of before you head back home. Assuming you’re still heading home?” He smiled down at her.
Not go home? The idea was both thrilling and relaxing. Without Mom and Dad there, the house had a comforting feel. She loved the sound of the water at night with her window open. She loved the sea-scented air. Even the noisy gulls were calling just for her. But New York was home. That was where she belonged—wasn’t it? It was where her clients and her livelihood were. Without that, she couldn’t afford either place. “I don’t think there’s any chance of me staying.”
He made a questioning noise in his throat and just held her. For some reason, his immediate acceptance of her decision bothered her more than her choice. Didn’t he want her to stay?
“That’s it? Just accepting? Why are you still here holding me like there might be a chance of something when I just said there couldn’t be?” She pushed forward to stand and get out of his warm embrace.
He wrapped his arms around her and kissed the side of her face so tenderly. “Because I don’t believe you’ve actually made that decision yet. I don’t think you know what you want to do because you’re so lost right now. It’s okay. We’re here for you. I’m here for you.” He held her close and gently turned her to look him in the eye. “Even if you choose to leave, I don’t want this to be the end. You can still come home and see me, visit the beach.”
Paxton was holding on like she’d expected Ben to. Ben had been with her for so many years, but he hadn’t even tried to stick close by her. “What do you see in me? After all this, I can’t see much good.”
He cupped her face. “I see the wonderful things Ryla said about you, that I didn’t hear at first because all I saw was your absence. I see that you aren’t the things she accused you of. I see your humanity. And I see a beautiful, smart woman who wants to understand what’s been hidden her whole life.” His lips came down over hers and she couldn’t think about what he’d said. Only that he’d been sure Ryla wasn’t in love with him.
When their lips parted, she held him close. “I need to be sure of a few things before I say anything. And you’re right, I don’t know what to do about this house. It’s all I’ve ever known as far as home. Rosewood House is the only part of my history still standing that I want.”
“Don’t forget your parents. They raised two strong, amazing daughters. I don’t think they’re as bad as you make them out to be. Just like you’re not as bad as you feel right now. Let your emotions settle before you cut any ties.”
She hated that he was right, but as usual, he offered sound advice. That was probably part of the job, she just wished he wouldn’t have to give her so much of his good advice.
Chapter Nineteen
The longer Quin considered all Paxton had said, the more she felt like one of his patients. He was indulging her with all his helpful advice, just like her parents had, and she would not live in another relationship like that. Honesty was the only way from now on. No more living by her gut and just letting others get hurt along the way.
She glanced up at the huge painting of Ryla above the mantel. Paxton’s friend had brought it three days before. The last day she’d seen him, he’d tried to come in and found the door locked, knocked, then walked away. He hadn’t tried using his key, which was good. Asking him to leave would have been extremely hard. She couldn’t quite face him yet to tell him she wanted space to think. The door would have to be her voice for now.
Mom and Dad hadn’t come back either and she was starting to feel guilty. They were dealing with grief too. Maybe theirs was different from hers but they had to be processing, and she’d basically kicked them out of their own home. She grabbed her phone and texted her dad.
Hey, are you still around or did you head out?
The question may have been passive, but she still wanted to know. Instead of getting a text back from her dad, Karla sent one.
Rob just took the kids alone for the first time. I don’t even know where he’s staying. I’m scared. I know he loves his kids…but he’s changed so much. How do I deal with this?
If Paxton was so full of advice for her, why wasn’t he helping Karla? She knew the thoughts were just angst at being there alone. She needed to get out but didn’t have anyone but Paxton and Karla. She felt trapped.
I don’t know what to say. I’ve never been through that. I don’t think outward change would make him stop loving your kids or make him willing to put them in any sort of danger.
Not that she would know. Even though she and Karla were only about five years apart, she couldn’t even fathom what it would be like to have teens. But did her advice match with her own life? She’d changed when she pushed away from the family, but she’d still loved them. Even when she hadn’t wanted to see them.
Dad responded. Wasn’t sure if you wanted to see us or not. We’re staying at a hotel for two more days. We’ll pick up our bags before we leave.
If she was going to face her parents and get the truth, or at least the truth as they saw it, she had to do it before they left. She might not see them again for a long time. They certainly wouldn’t go out of their way to see her art shows after the last few weeks.
Want to come over for a minute?
Her heart raced. What would she say to them? Now she understood what Ryla had faced on the beach. The ticking clock, the eminent hurt.
Sure. We’ll be over in a little while.
“You’d better be right, Paxton,” Quin mumbled.
Another text came through from Karla. I know you’re right. But I still worry. My kids have been my world for fourteen years. I don’t even know who I am outside of them.
Just like Quin wasn’t sure who she was outside of being an artist. She’d let that one thing define her life. Now, she didn’t know how to navigate the world outside.
Maybe we can figure out together what we should do?
Her response felt right, like that was what Ryla would’ve done for her if she’d had the same issue. Not that she’d ever have teenagers, or an ex-husband for that matter, since she’d never had a successful relationship.
Paxton’s kiss had also felt right. So right. But if he treated her like a patient or if Ryla had actually had more feelings for him than he thought, she couldn’t think about him. She certainly couldn’t kiss him again. No matter how much she wanted to.
A distant door slam sent Duggy racing through the room and toward the front door. “You stop right there!” Not that he’d listen to her. He didn’t even particularly like her. No one did, yet.
Duggy raced toward the front and she tried to remember if she’d locked it after she’d gotten the mail earlier. As the door swung open, she screamed. Mom and Dad laughed, heads turned to
one another, oblivious to the scene playing out outside of their attention. Duggy dodged their feet as he bounded down the stairs and out of sight.
“No!” she screamed, slamming open the door and shoving her parents to the side as she took off after him.
He bounded toward the sandy embankment, the only thing showing was brief flips of his white tail as he hopped. At least he didn’t head for the road or the water. She thanked Heaven he had enough sense to avoid cars. Within seconds, he was lost in the scrubby grass along the bank.
“Duggy? Please come back.” Ryla would’ve been so disappointed. Quin had let him run free because that was how he’d been with Ryla, but she should’ve kept him in his cage where he was safe. Now he was gone.
Mom and Dad appeared behind her and Dad’s reassuring hand landed on her shoulder. “He’ll come back. We’ll help you look.”
The tears came before she could stop them and she clenched her fists. “What do you know about rabbits? You never visited her either. She could’ve taught us all so much and none of us ever came.” The words poured from her soul, unchecked. Pain and loss merged to form a painful knot in her chest. “All this time, you gave me everything and it should’ve been her. You should’ve loved her not me.”
Dad gently turned her to face him. “We loved both of you. Ryla was an amazing woman. Gifted in writing and art. Maybe not as artistically gifted as you, but when we asked her which school she wanted to go to, she chose the community college because it was smaller, more manageable for her.”
“She felt guilted into everything,” Quin objected. “She probably thought you couldn’t do the same school for both of us. Have you seen her paintings? She was…amazing.”
Mom remained silent, her mouth squished in a pinched line and her arms crossed. Mom had always been the decision-maker, the chilly, analytical thinker. It was Mom she wanted to hear from, and probably wouldn’t.
“We did. She showed us a few of them when we visited last Christmas. She was doing very well then.”
That had been before her “heart event”, the one she hadn’t told anyone about. “I just wish she could’ve felt what she wanted to feel.”
Dad gave her arm one quick, gentle shake. “We can’t make anyone feel anything. We can’t determine how they will react to our actions. Even if we explain ourselves, it might not change how they feel. Your mother and I realized when Ryla was about twelve that she was acting out. We didn’t know why, but we tried various things to get her to open up. Nothing worked. The more we pushed her to do things on her own, the more she closed herself off. She didn’t talk for two weeks after you went to college for the first time.”
If Mom and Dad had been as active in Ryla’s life as they claimed, then where was the truth? Had all of the anger and pain in the diary been a build-up over years of misreading her family? “I don’t know what to think.”
“I’ve never told you what to think. We’ve encouraged you not to follow your dreams, but to actively chase them. Sitting here, reliving your past, does nothing to help your future. There’s nothing you can do here. That’s why your mother and I wanted to sell this house; so you could get back to living your life. You’ve been here long enough. Say your goodbyes then do the healthy thing and get back to your life.”
Mom finally nodded. “That would be the best. We’re worried about you. If you drown yourself in all of this, you will never get back to creating and that was what you were made to do.”
While their words made complete sense, the idea of leaving Rosewood House left her empty and hollow inside. “I’m not ready yet.”
Paxton ran from his house down the beach. “Quin, there you are.”
“Duggy’s missing.” And her heart was in turmoil. He’d told her to confront her parents. He’d told her he’d be there. This was all his fault.
“We’ll find him. I’ll go get his treats and help.”
“Help? Haven’t you helped enough? You keep giving me advice and I don’t want it. I’m not just some patient you can diagnose and push around.” She regretted pushing him away while needing his help to find Duggy, but he was always there with the answer. When would she finally get anything right on her own?
He glanced from her to her parents and back again. “Is this about us or about them?” His deadpan question blindsided her, but it shouldn’t have. When things got emotional, he became steady as a rock.
“This is about you. This is about taking advantage of my feelings and using me as some kind of case study.” She clenched her fists. Now that she was letting the world know how she felt, she couldn’t stop.
“I can see you’re having trouble dealing with losing Duggy. We’ll talk after we find him. He can’t have gone far. Take your parents back to Rosewood and I’ll deal with this.”
She hated that he could step right in and just take charge of the situation. He would always do that. If she didn’t accept that as who he was, then she could be no friend to him.
“Paxton, I—”
“Your parents need you now. Just go with them.” He cut her off and wouldn’t look her in the eye.
She nodded and began the walk back to Rosewood House. Dad followed and she heard Mom close behind.
“I’m sorry about Duggy. I’m sure he’ll come home. Luckily, there aren’t many cats on this street and he really doesn’t have many predators here. Paxton seems like he knows what he’s doing.”
He always did. “I’m sure he’ll take care of it.”
Mom stopped on the bottom step outside the house. “Your father and I don’t want to stand in your way. We never have. We wanted to push you to grow, not direct you. We’re sorry if that’s what it seemed like we were doing. You know how to reach us if you change your mind and want us to sell the house for you. You shouldn’t have to deal with it on your own. She may have left it to you, but we bought it originally and don’t mind selling it.”
Quin glanced over her shoulder back to the beach, but Paxton had already gone. She had no idea he’d kept rabbit treats at his house. No wonder Duggy liked him more. “I’m just not ready yet. There are a few more things I need to deal with.”
Mom nodded and frowned. “Don’t forget your apartment. If you aren’t there, it’s not safe. Someone could break in…”
Quin shivered. Living in the city had never bothered her. She’d thrived there. Now, she wanted the peace and quiet. It might be temporary, but Rosewood House was finally a place she could go to for healing. “I’ll call my landlord.” In times past, she’d have called Ben to have him look in on it. She’d hardly thought of him in the three weeks she’d been there.
“Do that. Wallowing here isn’t healthy. If you can’t take Duggy…maybe Paxton would take him?”
She thought back to the day she’d tried to give Duggy to Paxton and realized her parents were still in that stage of grief where they pushed off the acceptance of the inevitable. They hadn’t worked through as far as she had yet. “I’m going to try to keep him. She wanted me to.” And for once, she had a vague clue what Ryla might have actually wanted for her, and maybe it wasn’t all as good as Quin had thought.
Chapter Twenty
Mom and Dad had taken their bags back to their hotel room and told her they would call before they left. They’d understood that she wanted to stay close to the house when Paxton found Duggy.
Quin found herself in Ryla’s room. The last diary sat on the shelf and Quin felt the pressure her parents had pushed on her to rush and finish. Get back to normal. Would there ever be a normal again? Part of her wanted the life she had before this rollercoaster started, but she couldn’t go back. Life never turned backward.
The turquoise leather cover was still soft, not hardened with age. Her sister had written in it recently enough that there was no dust on the tops of the pages or the spine. She couldn’t discount any of these words as the utterings of a child. These were Ryla’s adult feelings, which scared her more than the first two books.
This was where she would find out how Ry
la had felt about Mom and Dad as an adult. This was where she would find how Ryla felt about Paxton. And this was where she would finally know with certainty what Ryla thought of her. The words she couldn’t say on the beach.
Quin held the book and wandered through the house, locking the doors. If Paxton found Duggy, he would knock or call her. She needed this last day of privacy to make a decision about the house, her relationship with Paxton, her future, and where Ryla wanted her paintings to go. Hopefully, the answers were in the last diary.
She settled on the couch and her eye caught on one of Duggy’s balls that he’d pushed into the living room. He usually hoarded his toys in Ryla’s room, but this one had been left in the middle of the floor. He’d tried so hard to adapt and she hadn’t tried hard enough to give him the space to like her. If Paxton hadn’t ordered her back to the house—probably to prevent them from chasing Duggy back and forth between the two—she would be out there hunting.
Something poked her back and she sat forward and pulled a clear tube with two small hooks like teeth. Ryla had called it a cannula, for her oxygen. She’d hated wearing it and Quin wondered how one had ended up in the couch. Had Ryla taken it off and hidden it from Paxton at some point? Would he remember? She set it aside but couldn’t move on for a moment. What had life been like before she’d arrived?
Quin tried to picture Ryla going about her day, but she’d been so sick by the time Quin got there that she couldn’t. What was normal? Paxton and Jane had helped her with almost everything. Even her voice had been weak.
She pressed open the first page and the line at the top stopped her cold. Until that point, all her entries had started Dear Later Self, but the first line of the last diary was chilling.
There won’t be a later self, so Dear Quin—as I’m sure you’ll be the one to read this.
She closed her eyes and swallowed hard. She wouldn’t cry. There wasn’t time. There would be time for tears on the flight back home. Time for tears in her lonely apartment. Time for tears when she took up the paintbrush again.
